marseille, we’ve arrived

It’s crazy but after all of our hard work, all of our planning, all of our worrying, packing, organizing, etc. we’re finally here. We’re in Marseille. We’re in France.

Everything is different and I mean everything. The people look and sound different. The food is different, the language, the land surrounding us is different. We’ve been going to bed late and waking up early and there are still not enough hours in the day to do everything that we want to do. I walk around this city writing blog posts in my head because there is so much to comment on but when I finally get around to finding time to go on the computer I feel too tired to write.

The shortcut to what’s really going on in my mind is that I’m happy that we are here. I’m happy that my little family is in this vibrant city. This gorgeous city and with gorgeous beaches and people. I love walking around, watching these people roam around, hearing them speak, hearing the sounds of a real city. I was walking home today (on my own since I had to drop off groceries while Pierre and Théo went ahead to the park) and I happened to see a huge tour bus drive by. I couldn’t help but smile to myself and think that I’m now “one of those people” that live in Marseille.

Yet I don’t “live” here, well, not yet anyway. I mean I am here and I have my family with me and we live in an apartment. That much is true. But in order to “live” somewhere you have to have a system, a routine of sorts and I have no routine to speak of. Instead, I’m making my way slowly. Figuring out what to eat, where to buy my clothes, how to speak the language, where to take my boy to the park or swimming lessons. I’m going to allow myself to slowly fall into the pattern of living in Marseille. So far so good.